white flags
by hypheniated
Summary: He can't leave. Her friends are out hunting for him. Stuck in her apartment with only her for company, one of them will crack. "Like what you see, little patriot?" he grinned. "Help me drop the towel and I'll give you a show." She blushed hotly. GaaSaku.
1. a bunch of bad habits

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C1 : a bunch of bad habits and you wear them like a crown

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He leaned heavily against the brick wall, sloppily compressing his rather large wound. The blond fucker smashed right into the lower two rungs of his ribcage, and it hurt like hell.

He definitely got a fair distance away from them. He could hear birds chirping and the quiet hum of air conditioners from the surrounding apartment buildings.

He fought the fuzziness that was threatening to overtake his eyes as he fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. He needed Temari.

He focussed on her and remembering her number with some difficulty. Where the fuck was his phone?

Ignoring a wave of pain, he finally managed to dig out the crappy silver thing, and with bloody fingers marking the keypad, he attempted to dial.

"_Gaara! Gaara! What happened? Where are you?"_

He tried to speak. "Tem…ari…" he closed his eyes, grimacing.

"_Gaara, stay with me. Where are you?" _The feminine tone grew desperate. _"What's around you?"_

"Al…ley…brick…" he coughed up a mouthful of blood. "Shit…" he spat it out noisily.

"_Gaara! Oh lord, Shikamaru, he's…"_

The cell phone slipped from his hand and landed with a clatter on the concrete. He slid down the wall, clutching his ribcage.

His vision was beginning to fray, and the pain was beginning to become unbearable.

He prayed to whatever deity that favoured him. He prayed that the filthy Leaf gang wouldn't find him alive. His sister's happiness depended on it.

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She shivered as she walked through the ER doors and unto the cracked sidewalk. Why hadn't she brought her jacket? She cursed her forgetfulness. It was definitely way chillier outside than inside the fluorescent hospital.

She swung her bag onto her thinly clothed back, and began to quickly move across the parking lot. She wanted to be home and fast.

She cut through the familiar alleyway between Hana's pet hospital and her favourite diner, smiling to herself.

A glass of wine would be nice, she allowed. She had a stressful day working with Tsunade, her superior, through several successful surgeries. She deserved to have a drink and unwind.

She turned left as the shadows loomed larger.

She remembered the last time Naruto and Sasuke drank with her, and she let out a giggle. They were sent away on an assignment the next day too. She quieted, and wished that they were here. She missed them.

Fingering the silver necklace they gave her with the Leaf pendant on it, she strode hastily through the alleyway.

In her haste, she tripped over something and fell to her knees.

"Ow." she muttered, checking her legs. Only a little gravel stuck to her pants, and she dusted them off.

She turned around to have a look at what made her fall, and she almost screamed.

A red-haired man was slumped against the wall, a limp hand on top of what looked like an impossibly large red stain on his side. She had tripped over his outstretched legs.

"Hello?" she whispered nervously. There was no reply, so she reached for his neck and felt around for a pulse. He was still warm, and she found a faintly fluttering beat. She dragged him out into the open, and examined his wound.

It was a horrible-looking hole, probably made by a fist. She touched it lightly, and she knew that at least two ribs were cracked. Luckily, however, his thoracic cavity had miraculously not been punctured.

She lifted his sticky shirt for a better look, and gasped in shock.

A small, boxy, black hourglass with a line on top was starkly inked onto his hipbone.

She felt faint. She would know that tattoo from anywhere. What the heck was a Sand member doing in Leaf territory?

Whatever circumstances it was, she couldn't take him to the hospital here, she knew with a sinking heart. The doctors would leave him for dead, including Tsunade, regardless of the oath they took that dictated they had to try and save whoever came across their hands.

However, she took her oath seriously. With a grunt, she hoisted him onto her thin shoulders, and began to inch her way to the end of the alleyway where her apartment block was located. She wondered absently if she had any large bandages left.

Naruto and Sasuke would flip their shit five times if they knew.

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* * *

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She managed to make it into her apartment without being seen.

She carefully laid him on her kitchen table, stripped off his blood soaked shirt and shoved it down her garbage chute. Switching on the painfully bright light, she grabbed her medical kit and set to work.

Soaking several cotton pads in rubbing alcohol, she gingerly swiped and cleaned the injury. She quickly sutured the hole closed, wincing at the scar it was going to create. Whoever did this was crazy strong, she thought. It kind of reminded her of…

She jumped as her phone rang.

She checked the caller ID, and she answered with a grin on her face.

"Hey, Naruto."

"_Hiya, Sakura! Told you we'd call if we had the chance!"_

"How's the assignment coming along?"

There was a pause, and a muffled scrambling in the background. A deeper voice took the place of Naruto's lighter tone. _"Not too well. We lost our target."_

"Hey, Sasuke. And that sucks."

"_It does. Unfortunately, we're not sure where he is. He might be back in his district, or he might be in ours. We're scouring the city later with Yamanaka and the Hyugas."_

She snickered as she heard her blond boy attempt to wrest the phone away from his dark-haired counterpart. "Let Naruto talk to me, Sasuke."

"_Be safe, Sakura, okay? There's a monster out there and we want you to stay in." _

"Monster, huh?" she mocked.

"_Yes, a monster. A red-haired one. He's the unofficial kingpin of the Sand side."_

She dropped her needle with a quiet gasp.

"_Sakura! What's wrong?"_

She fumbled for a lie. "I forgot to grab my laundry from downstairs." she said quickly. "I've got to go get it, okay?"

"_Nice going."_ he laughed. _"We'll let you go. Catch you later. Teme wants to say goodbye."_

"_Sakura."_

"Yes?" she asked mechanically, staring at her patient with the red hair.

"_Don't be stupid. Watch yourself." _

"Of course." she snapped, and hung up.

Why did Sasuke always say that? She stood up and cracked her shoulders, and stomped off towards the sink to wash her hands off. She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

But what was she going to do, she mused, as she forced her shaking hands to make a cup of tea. What was she going to do with the unconscious leader of the Sand district?

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* * *

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He heard the pitter-patter of rain falling against a window. His entire right side ached.

He silently thanked the gods for shining on him today. Someone from his side found him, and he was home.

Opening his eyes, he stared at a washed out blue ceiling.

What the fuck? The ceilings were supposed to be white!

He attempted to push himself up, but was surprised to feel a delicate hand shove him back down.

"You can't aggravate your wound." a clear feminine voice chimed in a reprimanding tone.

"Where the fuck am I?" he shouted hoarsely. His pupils dilated as he tried to scan the room in a moment of panic. "Where in the holy hell am I?"

He felt half of the bed rise, like a hospital bed.

He was lifted enough to stare right into sleepy emerald eyes.

"Hi." she yawned, running a hand through the most alien pink hair he had ever seen on someone's head. "You nearly bled to death out in the alley. I've been up half the night trying to save you." she shrugged nonchalantly, as if she rescued half-dead people from alleyways every night. "You're welcome."

He didn't reply, for his eyes had dropped her neck, where a shiny silver pendant lay.

It was a leaf, with a spiral in the middle.

His hopes sank, and he sightlessly watched her slight Adam's apple move with her steady breathing.

He was still in the goddamn Leaf district with a female Leaf patriot, of all people.

"I have to go." he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the spasms of pain that shot from his punch-wound.

"Oh no you don't." she slapped his shin so suddenly that he flinched. "I know who you are." she said boldly.

If it were possible, his hopes tried to drown themselves.

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* * *

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"I know who you are."

She didn't feel very brave as she spoke. In fact, she was scared to death of this boy.

"Oh?" he asked mockingly as he slowly slid his legs off the hospital bed that she kept for her injured friends. "And who am I?"

His strangely jade eyes pierced through her, as if she wasn't important to him. She bristled. She was the one who brought him from the brink of death, dammit! It would have been nice to hear a little gratitude.

"You're the leader of the Sand district of the city." she snapped at him, her emerald eyes flashing. "And don't think of leaving here unless you have a death wish. You're wanted in my half of the city. My fr-people are out hunting for you."

"So why'd you save me from dying, hm? So you could torture me?" he shot back savagely, watching as emotions – neutral, anger, shock, disgust – flitted across her heart-shaped face.

"I am a doctor." she spoke slowly and deliberately. "I took an oath to save anyone in my path, and I did. I would appreciate if you thanked me for saving your life, because you weren't doing yourself any favours by bleeding out in the alley!" she fumed.

He watched her rail-thin shoulders shake with her outburst. Did this girl ever eat? She was practically skin and bones, he noted with disinterest. Her eyes seemed enormous. In fact, her forehead was the most prominent thing on her face.

"Thanks." he said quietly. He wasn't going to do himself any favours by being ungrateful, even if it was better if he was dead in the street. "But you didn't need to save me, little girl. It would have been better if I died."

She glared at him. "Are you serious?"

He held in a bitter laugh. "Do you have an actual idea of who I am, little patriot?"

"You're the kingpin of the Sand side." she cocked her head, drumming her fingers on her chin as she stared at him.

He let out his brittle laugh, his eyes narrowing. What naiveté this sylph of a female had. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gaara, Kazekage of the Suna half of the town. My sister is Temari."

He looked on dispassionately as recognition settled into her fox-like features.

"No." she breathed, her jaw slack.

"Yes." he affirmed with a sick smirk.

"You…you're the one…" she got up, and began to back away.

"Yes." he was amused by her actions. He was disabled and unarmed and he was stuck in her home. Did she really think that he would attempt to kill her while he was in such a state?

"That…that kidnapped Shikamaru." her eyes were full of accusations, and she was gripping the dented doorknob with white knuckles. "You killed Chouji and Lee, and almost killed Neji and Kiba."

"That's me, little Leaf." he mocked as he looked around the room. Dirty pale blue walls matched the ceiling. Yellowish curtains framed the picturesque brightening skyline of Konoha. Or was it Suna? He couldn't tell. "I can assure you that it is against my policy to bite the hand that feeds. You have nothing to be afraid of." he cajoled in a soft tone, aware of the irony in his words.

She only stiffened her shoulders, but she stood up straight, glaring at him with incredible hatred. He was impressed.

She opened her red mouth. "I don't suppose you know who I am, then." she said haughtily, placing her hands on her narrow hips.

"I don't."

She held her contemptuous smile locked on her face. "I'm Sakura." she scanned his face for a reaction. She found none, and with her smile getting wider. "I'm the girl who is the bond between Naruto of the Uzumakis and Sasuke of the Uchihas. You can't kill me unless you want mass destruction of the place we call home. I think that makes me a little scarier than you are."

She let immense delight and satisfaction fill her as disbelief flitted across his pale face.

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* * *

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She couldn't be.

He gawked at her, his scarred hands clenching and his jade eyes wide.

The little patriot just stood there by the doorway, gloating at him, mocking him with her pink hair and supercilious mouth.

"Surprised?" she asked, sickly sweet.

He recovered quickly. "No." he laughed coldly. "You don't look much like a thing the prides of Konoha would fuck." he retorted, laughing again when he saw her rather delicate features twist into a snarl.

"Say that again, and I will leave you out for them to find." she bit out, her face turning an angry shade of red.

He snorted. Even though she had the holy terrors of the Uchiha and Uzumaki behind her, she was still a pale, frail thing.

There was a loud series of knocks, and they both jumped.

Both of their pairs of eyes widened at the same time.

"Shit!" she frantically hissed, her pupils darting around the room searching for a place to hide him.

"I think I can stand." he said as calmly as he could, but his heart began to race.

It would be extremely…unpleasant if he was found now.

"Into the closet!" she snapped, and she helped him hobble towards the closet next to a sorry painting of some droopy flowers.

The last thing he saw before he was engulfed with darkness and winter jackets was her apple-white arms roughly shoving him in.

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* * *

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She sauntered up to her battered front door. "Who is it?" she yelled.

"It's Ino." a muffled voice yelled back.

Sakura opened the door. "What up, pig?"

"Just checking on you, forehead." the voluptuous blonde grinned, fluttering her false eyelashes. "Let me in for a bit. I've got fifteen minutes before I begin patrolling."

"Want something to drink?" the strawberry-haired girl turned towards her kitchen, Ino trailing after her.

"Liquid chocolate, please."

Once both girls settled into the faded striped couch with their cups of hot chocolate, the blonde began to speak.

"There was a major fight last night." she whispered theatrically, gesturing with her free manicured hand. "Naruto took on Gaara of the other district."

Sakura almost spewed her beverage all over her stained coffee table. "What?" she gasped.

"Yes." Ino rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, your blue-eyed loverboy wasn't seriously injured, just broken fingers and a dislocated shoulder. The other guy was really unlucky to be on Naruto's receiving end though." she examined her nails. "Damn it, I cracked two of them again." she groaned.

The green-eyed girl blinked, and with as much disinterest she could muster, she asked, "I'm glad Naruto's not hurt. How bad off was the other guy?"

"He had a hole in his stomach. It looked pretty nasty. He defended himself really well. He was pretty sexy, but he was no match in looks against Shika-" she suddenly stopped, tears filling her big ice-blue eyes.

"Oh, Ino-pig." Sakura scooted over to give her a hug, all the while thinking about the redhead locked up in her closet.

He obviously was the perpetrator of Shikamaru's kidnapping, she thought with a growl. He caused her best friend so much pain and heartache. It wasn't like they needed him, anyways. The Suna district had a couple brilliant strategists already. The hell did he need Shikamaru for?

"It's hard." the blonde sniffled. "I miss him every day." An alarm went off, and she took a deep shuddering breath. "That's my sign to begin my shift. Thanks for letting me in, forehead."

"Anytime, piggy." they let go of each other with Ino attempting to hold in her tears.

"I'll let myself out." she got up, her heels clacking against the floor.

Sakura collected the mugs to drop off in the sink, and she headed for her spare bedroom once she heard the click of her door close.

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* * *

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When the door was thrown open, he shut his eyes against the sudden brightness that flooded his vision.

He felt an arm loop around his, and allowed himself to be led into bed.

"I'll close the curtains." she spoke curtly.

"Thanks."

Once he heard the shish of the curtain close, he opened his jade eyes.

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at him with such malice that he was a tad impressed.

"What do you want, little patriot?" he yawned lazily, leaning into his pillows.

"I want to know what I should do with you." she snapped, twisting the bedspread in her hands.

"I don't know." he shrugged his shoulders. He honestly didn't. He was at the complete mercy of this cotton candy puff. He didn't like it. "You get to choose, little patriot." he said dryly. "I'm injured, you're the enemy."

"You're infuriating." she gritted her teeth. "Stop calling me little patriot. You're patronizing me."

"You openly wear a symbol of your side." he pointed at her necklace like a child. "That makes you a patriot." he fought down a snicker at her death glare. She was so easy to rile up.

She fingered her simple pendant protectively as she wondered what to do. She knew the right thing to do was hand him over to her friends, but they would torture him for information on Shikamaru's whereabouts, and that would be sending Gaara to his death.

She frowned. But she couldn't keep him here.

"You could." she was startled, unaware that she voiced her thought out loud.

"Just until I'm fully recovered." he decreed, yawning widely while showcasing pointy canines. "And until your people back down from their search for me."

"Why shouldn't I just throw you out?" she fumed, her jaw set in irritation.

"Why would you ask such an inane question that you know the answer to, little Leaf." He closed his brilliantly jade eyes. "I'm sure you're supposed to let a patient rest, and you didn't even offer any painkillers. Let me sleep."

She felt a fleeting flash of guilt go through her. She turned away to go. "I'll be right back with some."

Gaara snorted sarcastically as he turned onto his painless side. "Don't bother, little patriot. You're as inept as they get."

She gritted her teeth as she glared at him. "I'll have you know I'm being trained by Lady Tsunade."

He raised a nonexistent eyebrow, his eyes still shut. "You suck at listening." he scoffed. "I said let me sleep."

"Fine!" she growled as she slammed the door behind her. She stomped over to her fridge, and pulling out a half-finished bottle of cheap white wine, she took a large swig.

The heavens knew she needed it if she was to deal with this infuriating red-haired fucker.

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_Chapter title courtesy of Royalty by Down With Webster._

_I would love some feedback, so please review?_

_:E hypheniated_


	2. she's got tickets to her own show

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C2: she's got tickets to her own show, but nobody wants to go

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He woke up biting his tongue. His side was on fire with his sweat prickling his ripped skin.

Cursing softly, he forced himself to not touch his wound as he shifted in the bed. He regretted that he didn't accept her offer of painkillers, because he needed something to stop his flaming pain.

He wondered if calling out to her was a good idea, because if she didn't come in five minutes, he would get up and find her, consequences be damned.

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* * *

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She groaned softly as she rolled over in her bed.

Her mouth felt chalky and gross, and her eyelids were glued shut with crusty stuff, but her head didn't pound with the throb of a headache.

She yawned widely as she stretched herself like a cat. She slipped off of the bed, and padded into her little bathroom to brush her teeth.

She had just spat out her toothpaste when there was a loud thump. Her eyes widened, and she quickly rinsed out her mouth. "Gaara!"

Without waiting for an answer she ran out of her room, worrying her bottom lip a mile a minute.

She nearly ran into him because he was leaning against the chipped doorjamb.

He was clenching his teeth, his forehead against his fisted hand. He flicked his heavily-lidded jade eyes at her.

"Little patriot." he gasped shallowly, his eyes closing in pain. "I need painkillers."

"I'll be right back. Try to get back into the bed." She disappeared.

He hissed. This hurt like a bitch. He couldn't wait until the stupid area healed.

She returned with two needles, and she brought him back to the bed.

"What are they?" he asked hoarsely, his cheeks beginning to mottle.

"Morphine." she said as she promptly disinfected his arm and stuck one of them in.

His eyes slid back into his skull as he relished the drug flowing through him, dulling the horrific stinging.

"I'm going to change your bandages, okay? Then I'll inject the second dose."

"Whatever." he was enjoying his near painless state. "Do what you need to do."

With careful hands, she stripped off the bandages and examined his skin.

There was an abundance of pus, but his flesh was cool to the touch, she noted with some satisfaction. She dabbed at the area with some alcohol, wiping some of the yellowy-green carnage off and smeared more antiseptic. She wrapped him back up, and as promised, she injected him again.

He let out a sigh of relief as his veins pumped in his high.

She backed out of the room, heading towards her kitchen.

As she measured out instant coffee into her mug, she wondered what she should do about him. He was obviously too injured to leave, but even if he wasn't, it was crazy to attempt to sneak him to the border. She had no car and everybody in the Leaf district knew her by sight.

She bit her lip, and checked the clock. There was half an hour to her shift at the hospital, and she should get ready to go.

She dressed and scribbled out a note for her patient. Heating up a container of chicken noodle soup, she poured it into a thermos and slipped into his room.

She placed both items on the nightstand, and hesitated, looking at him. Pulling out a towel from the dresser beside her, she gently dabbed away the slick sweat that beaded on his forehead.

He looked almost exotic, with his unruly red hair and no eyebrows. As she swiped his forehead, she noticed the dark red tattoo. Curiously, she traced it lightly with her finger, wondering what it said.

When she finished, she tossed the towel into her laundry hamper on her way out.

She was just locking her door when she sensed someone behind her. She whipped around, one hand in her backpack rooting for a weapon.

A lightly tanned Chinese girl stood there, grinning. "Should've called out a greeting if I knew you were gonna pull a knife or something on me."

"Tenten!" the pink-haired girl smiled, relieved. "What are you doing here?" she pulled her hand out of her pack.

"Escorting you to work. Sasuke's orders." Tenten shrugged, leading them down the stairs.

Sakura crossed her fingers. "Have you found any leads on the Suna leader's whereabouts? I'm not sure I'd enjoy the habit of being escorted everywhere I go." she joked.

"Ino found a pool of blood nearby your apartment, actually. It was inconclusive, for there was no trail leaving it, only to it. But it freaked your dream team out, and that's why I'm here." the brown-haired girl snickered, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. "Gods, it was hilarious. You should've seen how long it took for Naruto to realize you were in danger."

The green-eyed girl zipped up her bag. "I'll bet."

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* * *

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Morphine, he thought groggily, was one hell of a painkiller drug. He blinked away the last vestiges of sleep.

He twisted to his side to stare out the small window, watching as smokestacks belched out dark smoke against the bright skyline.

Only then did he take notice of the creased piece of paper sitting innocuously on the battered night table.

He grabbed it, and unfolded the message.

_Gaara-_

_There's chicken soup in the thermos. I've gone to work, and I'll be back around 8 tonight. If you need meds there's aspirin in the night table. _

_Don't even think about leaving unless you want your insides gutted out._

_-Sakura_

It seemed he was left to his own devices today. He didn't mind, but his stomach rumbled, and he reached for the thermos. He hungrily drained the container, and set it aside.

He cautiously nudged and rubbed his side with his knuckle. Feeling no pain, he slipped out of bed.

He might as well explore his surroundings, he mused. He had no idea how long he would be here in this little apartment.

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* * *

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After forty five minutes, he flopped onto her armchair. There was nothing particularly interesting in here besides a hodgepodge of medical files and outdated female magazines.

But several overstuffed scrapbooks and photo albums had caught his interest.

One of the fastest ways to understand a person was through their photos.

Plus he was curious about the little patriot and her yearmates. Konoha raised their children differently than Suna did, and he wasn't foolish enough to assume that his city's methods were superior to theirs.

He opened up the first album of the stack; it was a cheap plastic one, with faded stickers still glued on.

The first few pictures were of a blonde girl and his hostess, grinning at the camera with a purple jam all over their chubby faces. He flipped a few pages more, seeing the addition of a few other girls to their twosome in various acts of amusement.

Already tiring of the photos of little girls, he opened a much newer leather-bound album.

He was much more pleased with his next selection, for they were much more recent shots of the prides of Konoha with the pink-haired girl.

In fact, the pictures were of their selecting ceremony, Gaara realized as he bent down to have a better look.

He slowly flipped the pages. Sakura, dressed in traditional robes, lined up with several other similarly dressed girls. Sakura again with her head bowed. Sakura being grasped by dissimilar arms of the two prides of Konoha, a look of pure shock on her heart-shaped face which matched the ones of her peers. Sakura drinking from a brass cup and passing it to the blond that injured him last night. Sakura smiling as she held the hand of the sulky-looking dark-haired boy.

He flicked through the rest of the pages, seeing nothing but the pink-haired patriot and her two protectors. Tossing the album aside, he stood up to wander over the window.

It fucking sucked, he thought as he moodily watched cars pass by beneath him. Konoha had the right idea when it went around with alliances to powerful families. His father had been so fucking close-minded, he thought bitterly, slamming a fist on the windowpane. And the bastard had left him with so much turmoil and garbage it was a three person job to restore Suna to its former glory.

Turning away from the glass, he thanked whoever was watching him and his siblings from the heavens for ridding them of their father.

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* * *

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She sat in her office, perusing the contents of a file when her door was thrown open. She didn't bother to look up. "Who is it?"

"Sakura-chan!" a familiar male voice crowed delightedly.

Her head shot up to see her Naruto, all tan and sparkling oceanic eyes in her doorway. She gasped and jumped up, papers flying, to hug her blond boy.

"Naruto!" she laughed as he embraced her tightly and swung her around. She had missed his brand of sunshine terribly ever since he left. She revelled in the ever-familiar smell of ramen and male musk emanating from him.

"Put her down, dobe." Her pale-skinned, dark-haired Sasuke stood in the corridor, his hands shoved comfortably into his pockets as he watched the over exuberant display.

"No." the blond pouted as he clung to the pink prize in his arms. "Jeez teme, we haven't seen Sakura-chan in three weeks and you don't even greet her?"

"How can I greet her if you don't even let her go?" was his counterpart's irritated response. "You're such an idiot."

"Naruto, put me down." she wriggled out of his reluctant clutches, and headed towards Sasuke. She wrapped her arms around him as well, burying her face into his jacket, breathing in his minty scent.

He carefully wound his arms around her, burying his face into her shoulder. He sighed, and drew back. "Sakura."

"Sasuke." she pulled her head out of his chest, smiling so hard that her mouth hurt. She pecked him on the cheek, and stepped out of his embrace to grab Naruto's hand and kiss him on the cheek too. "What are you two doing here?"

"We're here to take you out to lunch." the blond grinned. "It's nearly two and we know you forgot."

She laughed sheepishly. "Oops."

"So we bet that Tenten filled you in on that blood pool, didn't she?"

"Mhm. She did. Can we talk about something else?"

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* * *

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She returned to her apartment building, smiling as she climbed up the many stairs. It had been the perfect day, for Tsunade had given her the rest of the day off so she could spend precious hours with her boys before they had to leave again. They had gone to the park after lunch, eating ice cream and feeding the ducks.

Pushing a strand of candy hair behind her ear, she unlocked her door, humming a slow song to herself.

"About time you returned."

She saw Gaara sprawled lazily on her old sofa, staring at her ceiling.

Her good mood lessened as she glared at him. "What the hell are you doing out of bed? You're injured!"

He gave a shrug. "The morphine did wonders, thank you." he flicked his jade eyes at her, scrutinizing her flushed face. "You look happy. Met up with your johns?" he slung casually at her.

Ire flashed in her dark green eyes. "Excuse me?" she spoke coldly, an angry edge to her tone as she strode purposefully towards him. Leaning over, she grabbed his chin so their eyes met.

"I am not a whore, you hear me?" she hissed fiercely, her light pink blush darkening to an irate maroon. "I don't care who the fuck you are, or what the fuck you can do, but you're in my house and _you will respect me._ Do you understand?"

His lips twitched, but his face stay impassive. It only fuelled her anger, for she would not stand to be disrespected in her own house.

She gripped his face tighter, drawing it closer to hers. "Do you understand?" she snapped.

He sighed, blowing his warm, coffee-tainted breath at her mouth. "If you must insist, little patriot. Now let go of me. I don't like to be touched."

Sakura let go of his face, and he immediately reached up to massage himself lightly. "You have a strong grip for such a small person."

Hearing this, she allowed a slight smile. "I used to be in the gang with my friends." she spoke nonchalantly. "It was before I was selected to be the Uzumaki-Uchiha bonder."

Gaara raised his nonexistent eyebrows. "Really."

"Yes really."

He let out a sharply hoarse laugh, his eyes drooping in tiredness. "You surprise me every time we speak, little Leaf."

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_I'm sorry for such a delayed chapter…I've been so busy lately! _

_Title courtesy of Tickets by Maroon 5._

_I'd love some feedback, so please review?_

_:E hypheniated_


	3. i've had recurring nightmares

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C3: i've had recurring nightmares that i was loved for who i am

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She ignored him after that, putting away her coat into the closet and taking off her boots. Why did he have to be such an asshole? It wasn't like she had provoked him in any way. She gritted her teeth in irritation as she stepped past the sofa he was on to head into the kitchen. A glass of wine would do her some good, she thought as she pulled out a new bottle of red. As she twisted the corkscrew into the stopper, she wondered what did he do all day anyways cooped up in her apartment. Did he just make coffee and lie on the couch?

Her wonderings turned to horror as her hand gripped the neck of the bottle, ready to pour out the ruby liquid. What if he rifled through her stuff? Her drawers, her documents, her clothes…she opened her mouth to scream, but she snapped her jaw shut. She would not be rattled by the redheaded lord on her couch.

She finished pouring her glass, and stomped into her living room to question him.

He still lay prone on the couch, his hands folded on his stomach, his piercing eyes shut to the world. She shook his shoulder roughly as she placed her butt on the battered coffee table. "Wake up, you bastard." She hissed in his ear.

"No need for your horrid bedside manner, I am in all ways awake." he drawled as one eyelid was cracked open, revealing half of a bright green iris. "What do you want now, little Leaf?"

"Did you go through my stuff?" she asked sharply, her eyes sparkling dangerously. She gripped his shoulder tightly in her hand not holding the wineglass.

"I can answer better without your manhandling of my shoulder." he retorted back. So the little Leaf was concerned about her privacy. He snorted inwardly. As if he was in any state to utilize the very little useful information he gleaned from her medical notes and photo albums. He couldn't even escape this sorry place.

"Did. You. Go. Through. My. Things." she hissed as she clenched her hand tighter. Medical training weren't the only lessons she was taught from Tsunade.

He drew out a long sigh, as if the death grip she had on him was nothing but a friendly hand on him. "Only through your medical files and a couple photo albums. I was bored."

She slapped him so hard the ring on her finger scraped his cheek, creating a bleeding welt that marred his pale face. His head snapped to the side from the impact.

He let out a low hiss in anger, his teeth gnashing togehter.

_She should not have touched him. She should not have hit him._ That was the last coherent thought that went through his mind before his fury surged into the usually-dormant demon locked up inside of him. Gaara didn't have the energy to fight the anger-fuelled surge; his body was busy putting its energies into fixing his wound at the moment. He prepared to surrender his body to the demon, his consciousness already drifting into the deep, protective recesses of his mind, too tired to put up a fight.

"That stuff is private!" she shrieked in panic. "You aren't allowed to touch my stuff! I could have you arrested for it! My patient confidentiality has been-"

"You would do well to unhand me, little girl." A gruffer voice growled dangerously.

She stopped yelling to look down at the man she still had a grip on. Her emerald eyes widened in fear.

Underneath her lay Gaara, but not quite Gaara. The lucid look on his face was replaced with a maniacal, toothy grin that freaked her out. His canines were as prominent as a wolf's. His scleras were as black as his pupils, the only definition visible were his pale irises.

He slowly reached up and without a word, violently yanked her hand off of him. She tried to take a step back, but instead she found herself slammed painfully into her couch, one of his knees holding down her legs. He leaned into her, his frightening stare never leaving her pretty face.

"You would also serve yourself well if you don't scream, little girl." he murmured hotly against her ear.

Her blood ran cold in her veins. "Who are you?" she tried to keep her voice as flat as she could, trying to hide the tremble that crept in.

"You shouldn't be asking questions you don't want the answer to." He snorted contemptuously, drawing himself back so their noses barely brushed each other. "Especially since you hit me without my permission."

She tried to shrink back from him, but he only threw back his head and laughed at her. It was a raspy, animalistic sound that sent goosebumps across Sakura's smooth skin. "Not so brave, are you, little girl."

"Let go of me." She snapped, her courage returning as fight flushed back into her body. She used to fall into worse situations than this, and she always managed to figure a way out. She forced herself to meet his cruelly-amused stare.

God, his eyes…they were like bottomless pits with a small ring of green floating within. She held his malicious gaze, searching carefully for any glimmer of humanity. She found none, but she didn't let it deter from letting her mind run through possibilities.

"No wa-" she knocked into his forehead with hers. Without wasting another second, she shoved him off of her. He fell with a hard thud on the carpeted floor, too shocked to move. As hard as she could, she kicked him in the arm, an audible crack reverberating through the room.

The jarring pain yanked Gaara's consciousness to the surface, and he winced as he gingerly cradled his broken arm. He blearily looked up at her, exhausted from the energy expended to sustain Shukaku's mind. His mouth felt dry as if he had swallowed a carton of sand. "What happened?" he whispered hoarsely, his eyelids already falling shut from exertion.

"I should be asking you that question." she spat, uncaring that he was injured at the moment. She just wanted answers as to why he had suddenly…transformed. It was like he was possessed. "Who the hell was that?"

"Who…who the hell…was who?" he murmured, his voice barely breaking through the air. He felt as if his whole body was throbbing with his arm and he could barely keep himself from succumbing to the soft darkness clouding his mind.

'_**Let me take over, kit.' **_Shukaku broke through the haze with his wheedling but gentle tone. _**'Let me handle this for you.'**_

He didn't want him to, but by Kami Gaara was so drained. Shukaku had better make it brief or his heart would give out like last time they stayed switched for too long.

'_**Of course.' **_the raccoon snorted derisively. _**'Last thing I want is me and my favourite container dying.'**_

Of course not, Gaara echoed before slipping into the safe, familiar recess in his brain. He was Shukaku's only container. It would be a shame if both of them died.

Sakura watched him warily, hoping it wasn't some sort of trick. She did note that he dragged his ragged breaths in, and she immediately regretted breaking his arm. It just added to the list of things she had to repair for him.

So she was gobsmacked when Gaara suddenly shot up into a sitting position. She brought her fists up, ready to retaliate should he attack her.

He slowly raised one arm up. "Careful, little girl." he spoke with an edge, his canines flashing. "You don't want those fists in the wrong places, I assure you. I don't feel pain and it would be quite easy for me to crush you into nothing."

Her crystalline eyes shot daggers at him. "Who are you?" she snarled, baring her teeth.

"No one."

"You lie."

"It is the truth, yet the untruth." He paused. "Do you have any of those bags of fluids that connect to your arm?"

"Why?" she kept her guard up, observing him carefully.

"We're going to need several of them. And one of those beeping machines that follow your heart rate. I also hope you have one of those electric shocker things that jolt your body just in case. I'm not sure what else. I don't pay attention during the procedures." He shrugged nonchalantly, rolling his eyes in the process. "Such weak bodies. This one is about to collapse out of exhaustion. Do something about it. I will keep his heart beating for as long as I can."

"And why should I trust what you say?" she asked deliberately, forcing her medical instincts down as she watched him sway back and forth unsteadily.

"I don't think you want a dead hunted man on your floor, do you?" And with that, Gaara's body gave a shudder and crumpled ungracefully to the floor.

Thirty seconds passed before Sakura decided to inch towards him to grab his wrist. Fumbling for a pulse with shaky fingers, she felt it beat once. She counted the seconds, completely sure that he was dead and that the not-Gaara was lying, but it was an incredible full minute before it beat again. Swearing under her breath, she got up and ran for her medical supplies.

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She worked through the night, trying to maintain life within the Kazekage's body. He flatlined once, but somehow there was the minute-pulse that managed to sustain him after she applied the defibrillator.

When she managed to stabilize him, she sank into a nearby chair, exhausted. She gazed off into the horizon, thinking.

She didn't know if she truly wanted to know what the hell was wrong with Gaara's mental state. The less she knew the better, but it was one of the scariest experiences of her life. It was like he had a split personality or something crazy like that. She felt shattered – she saved her enemy's life again when he was on the brink of death. What did that make her? A saviour? A traitor of her city?

She didn't want to make sense of it. She had already broken unspoken rules in keeping him alive and in her apartment. What if she was discovered? What would they do to her? What would her friends think? She was one of the most valuable people in the city – the only person who brought two rival families together. She didn't want to even imagine Naruto and Sasuke if they found out there was a man living in her apartment without their knowing.

She brought her knees up to her chest, trembling. It was hopeless. It was going to be all her fault. Her cleverness was for nothing. She was too soft. She didn't even have a plan if she got caught. The wrath of her whole city would be on her.

It was all because she just couldn't leave bleeding man alone to die in an alley.

Quiet sobs wracked her body as the sun rose over the skyline.

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_Chapter title courtesy of Hoodoo by Muse._

_I'd love some feedback, so please review?_

_:E hypheniated_


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